


Lay Down Your Head

by intotheruins



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, First Kiss, Insomnia, M/M, Supportive!Sam, there's a cat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2014-11-03
Packaged: 2018-02-23 21:57:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2557151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intotheruins/pseuds/intotheruins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel can't sleep. Dean tries to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lay Down Your Head

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this came from. It just kind of happened. Tyler is based on a real cat I ALMOST took home from Pet Smart a year ago.

“You okay, Cas?”

Dean watched the former angel sink heavily into the seat across from him. There was a steaming mug in his hands that smelled thickly of black coffee, and there were alarmingly dark half-circles under his eyes. The look Castiel gave him across the table, bleary and half-lidded, was somehow pissy and fond at the same time.

“No,” Castiel grunted, and took a sip of his coffee.

Dean blinked. Okay, then. “Not sleeping?” He felt like the guess was pretty obvious, but it was just so hard to tell when it came to the newly human ex-angel. Dean still hadn't forgotten the first week when he could have sworn the redness creeping up Castiel's arms had been sunburn, only to find out he'd been rubbing himself raw in the shower because now he could feel the daily build-up of filth that had been so easy to ignore while he still possessed his grace.

“No,” Castiel repeated, petulant, and Dean chuckled because Cas sounded like an irritated five-year-old when something was bothering him. “It is... difficult. The process. I find that by the time I manage to drift off, I have only a few hours before I must be awake again.”

Pushing his own coffee aside, Dean folded his arms on the table and leaned towards Cas. If this were anyone else, Dean would just tell them to pop a couple of pills or maybe have a drink before bed, but this was Cas, and it was unlikely that his problem was based in simple insomnia.

“Tell me about the process,” Dean prompted.

The former angel sighed. He took another drink and then set his cup down in front of him, both hands curled gently around the ceramic like it would shatter if he so much as lifted it wrong. “It is exceedingly difficult for me to relax,” Castiel said slowly. “Falling asleep is... disturbing. Dreaming is interesting, even enjoyable, but my awareness is dulled while my body rests. I don't like being unaware.”

“Falling asleep makes you nervous,” Dean summarized. He gave himself a mental pat on the back when Castiel nodded. “Okay, I get that. But you need sleep, man, or you'll be useless during hunts. What have you tried?”

“Sam suggested a hot shower right before bed. That helped my body relax, but my mind wouldn't shut off. He also suggested counting sheep, but I don't understand, there are no sheep here.”

Dean, who had just taken a drink of his coffee, choked and nearly dropped the mug on the table. He set it down and smacked his fist against his chest a couple times, wheezing on the bitter sting in his throat even as he laughed soundlessly. Castiel tipped his head and glared at the hunter, but that just made Dean laugh harder.

“Sorry!” Dean gasped. “You don't literally count sheep, you do it in your head. It's monotonous, sometimes it helps people switch off.”

“Oh.” Castiel's brows drew together in a terse little frown, and then he nodded once. “I see. But this would require some amount of focus, and I believe that is the source of my problem.”

“Yeah, it sounds like it,” Dean agreed. “We'll start trying some stuff tonight, okay?”

He smiled reassuringly at the former angel. Castiel smiled back, blue eyes trusting and relieved. “Okay. Thank you, Dean.”

They didn't have a case, so Dean spent the day researching tricks to help someone sleep. More than once Sam walked by and saw Dean clicking away at the overload of information the internet had provided, but he never said a word. He just smiled knowingly, and once he slapped Dean on the shoulder as he passed. Dean cast him a few quizzical looks, but he didn't ask what Sam was thinking. If Sam wanted to stay quiet, nothing Dean said was going to make a difference.

The first night, Dean had Castiel try one of the simpler suggestions he'd found: stretching. Dean took Castiel through a series of different motions, stretching out and relaxing everything from neck to calves, which was admittedly more thorough then the site had suggested, but Dean figured their lives were a lot more stressful than the average person.

Dean slept for eight solid hours, but Castiel still had deep circles under his eyes in the morning.

The next night they tried meditating, which Dean had to both look up and ask Sam about. His brother was surprisingly patient as he led Dean through each step, even going so far as to give Dean tips on what Castiel might focus on and how to guide him through it without being intrusive. It turned out that meditating was as stressful for Castiel as sleeping, but Dean once again went out like a light and stayed that way for another eight hours.

He was going to get spoiled at this rate.

After that they tried darkening the room, getting Castiel a more comfortable mattress, a better pillow. They tried soothing music and the white noise of a fan. Sam suggested chamomile tea, or dripping lavender oil on the pillow. Castiel liked both very much, but neither assisted him in falling asleep. He tried reading before he slept, and at one point Dean read _to_ him, some mind-numbing information on different kinds of bees. They tried breathing techniques. On the third week, Dean tried massaging Cas's shoulders and neck until the former angel was a limp mess, but it was still two in the morning before he finally managed to drift off.

Dean tried almost all of these techniques right alongside Cas, and every night he slept better than he had in ages. By the third week he was alert and energetic, and things that often irritated him suddenly became acceptable, even amusing.

Thirty days after the project began, Dean woke and hopped right out of bed, throwing on his clothes and striding right past the coffee on his way to the kitchen. He threw a cheerful “Morning!” at Sam, who was sitting at the table eating eggs over dry toast. He began whistling something vaguely resembling “Ramble On” as he opened the fridge and pulled out the eggs and bacon.

“Morning,” Sam answered. When Dean turned with his soon-to-be greasy goodness, Sam was looking up at him and grinning widely. His hair was getting too long again, falling into his eyes and splaying out over his shoulders. Normally, this irritated Dean on what was probably a ridiculous level, but today it just made him smile. It was floppy and messy and so very Sam, and Dean reached out to scruff a hand through it affectionately before he turned to set his food beside the stove.

“You're in a good mood,” Sam mentioned lightly. He ran a hand through the hair Dean had mussed and kept right on smiling.

Dean just nodded. He switched to humming as he laid out strips of bacon to sizzle in a heavy cast-iron pan. “Cas up yet?”

Sam shook his head. Dean frowned and checked the clock over the doorway. It was nearly 9a.m. He threw in a few extra strips for the former angel, and went to check on him.

He found Castiel sprawled out in bed, eyes wide open and staring miserably at the ceiling. His door was open, so Dean just walked in and reached out, stroking his fingers over the bottom of a bare foot sticking out from under the covers. Castiel let out a little huff of laughter and jerked his leg back. He dropped his gaze from the ceiling to level a glare that was really more of a twisted grin at Dean.

“Sorry,” Dean chuckled, though he really wasn't. He'd discovered Castiel was ticklish when he'd given him the massage, and it had proved to be endlessly entertaining.

Castiel's eyes were bloodshot, the seemingly permanent circles under his eyes so dark it was beyond alarming, at this point. Instantly, Dean's amusement fell away. He tried not to feel guilty about the fact that he was benefiting from the endless attempts to help Castiel sleep, but it was hard not to when the former angel looked so completely and utterly  _miserable._

“I'm making bacon,” Dean said, almost gently. He knew how much Cas liked bacon.

Castiel nodded once. He smiled at Dean, tired and reassuring, like he could sense Dean's sudden guilt. “All right.”

Dean nodded back, and then turned on heel and fled before he started doing something ridiculous, like apologizing for something he couldn't do anything about.

Sam had finished his breakfast and flipped the bacon for Dean by the time he got back. He was leaning back in his chair with a book and a fresh cup of coffee, and there was another cup waiting for Dean. The hunter toasted Sam with it, who chuckled and returned the gesture without looking up from his book.

“Cas okay?” Sam asked.

Dean sighed. “Not really. It takes him hours to fall asleep, and he's only staying asleep for two or three. Nothing we've tried has helped at all.”

Sam lowered the book so it was resting in his lap, hazel eyes flicking up to Dean's. “Have you thought about giving him something to sleep with?”

“Sleep with?”

“Yeah, you know, a pillow or... I dunno, a cat or something.” Sam shrugged. “He's not used to being alone. I think even when he was cut off from Heaven he could still kind of feel the other angels. I know he says he just has trouble switching his mind off, but I'd be willing to bet he's _scared_ to be asleep because he feels completely cut off.”

That... actually made a lot of sense. Dean was a little irritated he hadn't thought of it himself. “We could get a cat,” he said slowly. “They're pretty self sufficient, wouldn't have to worry about it on hunts.”

Which was how Sam and Dean wound up at a pet store five miles down the road, leaving a tired Cas with a plateful of eggs and bacon and a cup of very strong coffee.

There were eight thousand cats in the pet store. Dean stared at all the furry, multi-colored creatures meowing and purring and pawing at the glass of their cages, utterly daunted by the  _choices._ He turned somewhat helplessly to Sam, who laughed and began reading the descriptions taped to the front of each cage.

“We want a calmer cat,” Sam was saying as he walked slowly down the aisle. “And obviously one that's going to want to cuddle.”

Dean just nodded, following Sam and letting him narrow down the choices. An hour later they were walking out of the store with a huge male tabby who, according to the description, loved to snuggle and was exceptionally laid back. They didn't even have to put him in a box. He spent the short ride home in Sam's lap, purring quietly and rubbing his face against Sam's massive hand.

Castiel loved the cat, and the cat loved him right back. The ex-angel spent the day carrying him around, stroking his head and neck and talking to him in a low murmur. When Dean passed Castiel's room that night, the former angel was curled around the cat and dozing lightly.

“I managed four hours last night,” Castiel told him the next morning. “And I was half asleep for at least three. Tyler's purring was very comforting.”

“Tyler?” Dean repeated, strangely surprised by that name.

Castiel nodded. “It was the only name that came to mind that seemed to fit him.”

Tyler definitely helped, but Castiel still wasn't getting more than four fitful hours of sleep. Dean had lived on nothing more than that for years, but now that he was getting eight solid hours of restful sleep every night, he was starting to understand why it was so important.

Three days after getting Tyler, Dean came into Castiel's room and threw himself down in an overstuffed chair Castiel had brought in specifically for Dean, since he was spending so much time in here with the former angel. Castiel was already in bed, body curled inwards slightly so that Tyler was tucked against his belly. The cat was purring loudly enough that Dean could hear him clearly, and the sound made Castiel smile as he stroked the cat's ears.

“I have an idea,” Dean said, and Castiel looked up curiously. “I'm just gonna sit here for a while, see if the company helps you fall asleep.”

“But then you won't sleep,” Castiel pointed out.

“Nah, I'm fine,” Dean assured him. “This chair's pretty comfortable, I can probably sleep right here.”

Castiel looked doubtful, but he settled into his pillow and closed his eyes anyway, hand still softly stroking Tyler's ears.

Dean woke abruptly in the dark, four hours later according to the red glow of the alarm clock on Castiel's nightstand. His neck was stiff and he felt briefly disoriented before he remembered he'd fallen asleep in Castiel's room. He could no longer hear the cat purring, and when he squinted towards the bed he could just make out Castiel. His eyes were open, the red light glinting off of them strangely. Just after midnight, and he wasn't even dozing. Dean wondered how long Castiel had been staring at him.

The cat shifted against Castiel's stomach. His hand tightened and then relaxed, and Castiel drew in a sharp breath, still staring so intently at Dean.

“Oh,” Dean said suddenly. He stood up and crossed the short distance between the bed and the chair. He didn't know why he suddenly knew what to do, or why it wasn't bothering him at all, but he decided it didn't really matter. “Budge up.”

Castiel tilted his head into the pillow, and then scooted back. Tyler squawked as the warm body he'd been resting against so rudely moved away. Tail flicking in irritation, he stood and stalked to the end of the bed, curling up against Castiel's feet and promptly falling asleep again.

“Dean?” Castiel whispered, the lilt of a question in the breath of his voice.

Dean said nothing. He pulled back the covers, kicked off his boots, and slid into bed with Cas. The ex-angel's eyes were wide, but in the dark Dean couldn't tell if he was startled or scared. He hoped it was just the former as he reached out and pulled Castiel into his arms, tucking him against his chest and resting his chin in Castiel's hair.

“Oh,” Castiel breathed, echoing Dean's earlier exclamation, and Dean was relieved when he felt the former angel relax, going completely limb in Dean's arms. “This is... extremely pleasant.”

Dean chuckled quietly. He let himself relax into the bed, surprised by how good it felt to lie this close to Cas, to have his arms wrapped protectively around him. “Good. Now let's see if it'll let you sleep.”

Castiel's hair brushed against his chin as the ex-angel tipped his head back. In the tiny light of the alarm clock, Dean could just see Castiel's lips part, just a little.

“Yeah?” Dean asked, uncertain, thinking the dark was tricking him and wondering why he knew he'd be happy if it wasn't.

Castiel nodded once. Dean drew in a sharp breath. He remembered Sam's knowing looks, his patience, how much he'd encouraged Dean to touch Cas, and wondered if his little brother had known this was going to happen all along.

“Okay,” Dean whispered.

He leaned down, slowly, giving Castiel all the time in the world to back out. He never did.

The brush of their lips was gentle, hesitant, a careful question that was answered when Castiel let out a pleased exhale and pressed up against Dean. It was the softest kiss Dean could remember having since he was an awkward teenager, and it sent a thrill curling down his spine. He smiled against Castiel's lips, threaded his fingers through the ex-angel's hair. He didn't try to delve any deeper because he knew it was Castiel's first kiss, and he figured he'd need some time to get used to it.

Eventually, Castiel relaxed back into the pillow. His eyes were closed, and a smile was teasing at the corners of his lips. He murmured something that might have been Dean's name, and fell asleep.

Dean grinned. He rested his head on the pillow beside Castiel and tightened his arm around the former angel's shoulders.

“Night, Cas,” he whispered, and let himself drift off.

~

END


End file.
